The Colour of My Eyes
by Reithandina
Summary: Everything was Black and White. He was colour Blind. The Betrayals took away his colours. The Dark painted his world anew! Harry!Dark. Dark!themes. Bloodshed! Language!


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**A/N: **Soo this is a new story :) I can't promise it's as good as Shadow and Ice, but I like it. So I hope someone will too :) Please tell me if there's some misspellings I need to correct. Thanks everyone, have a good time!

**Disclaimer: **I don't make any money for this fic, and I don't own Harry Potter.

**Summary: **_Everything was Black and White. He was colour Blind. The Betrayals took away his colours. The Dark painted his world anew!_

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**[ The Colour of My Eyes ]**

It was a normal winter day. The sky was for once blue and cloud-free, and the sun shone brightly, reflecting back on the fine snow that was laying innocently on the nearest surface. A few creatures were out in this fine weather, searching for food and thus transforming this picture to a beauty. It made a pair of watchful Emerald eyes shine fondly, as they stared out of the Astronomy Tower.

Hogwarts was beautiful in this particular season. White and pure. It was one of the only things the owner of these pair of unusual eyes was starting to enjoy now a days. Everything else seemed just so pointless, and colourless. The world wasn't what it used to be when he first arrive here. When he'd first heard he was a wizard, he thought that perhaps this was what he had always waited for. What he had wished for every night all his life.

A new beginning.

Somewhere he wasn't a Freak, or Worthless. Where he was just like everyone else. He had been rather excited as an 11 year old, and perhaps even naïve. He had allowed himself to really hope that his life would be better. That he'd have friends and would finally feel loved. Make his own life. Have a family in the future, and forget about his horrible past.

But he was sorely disapointed.

Everyone already knew of him. He had been famous all his life, for something he couldn't even remember. For something he cursed everyday had happend. He wasn't Harry The Freak, with these people, instead he was Harry Potter, The-boy-who-lived, The golden boy, The Choosen one, and Savior of the Wizarding World.

He wasn't used to this kind of attention. It had been too much. But he had endured it for he had friends. He had finnaly had friends and he was happy. He allowed himself to be the young child he had always dreamed of being. Playing, and having fun with them. At those times, those naïve times, he saw colours.

The world was in beautiful colours.

But the people in this beautiful world changed from beautiful colours into Black and White. Things changed. And he started, ever so slowly, to loose his hopes and his joys. The world was wrong. So utterly wrong. He could see it now. He could see it on Remus' face every time they met. Drenched in worry and hopelessness. Pain and loneliness. Remus had too, seen the colours change from the world, and it appeared to be killing him.

Harry wasn't happy about it.

He wasn't happy about many things, now a days, and it all began after Sirius fell through the veil. First he kept blaming himself. If he had just practiced Oclumensy more, then he'd never seen that fake vision. Then he'd never gone to the Department of Mysteries, and send Sirius to his death.

Then he blamed Snape.

The greasy git could've at least made a sign that he'd heard him, when he had informed the git about it, or understood it. And then the blame came back to himself again. But only weeks after, before his birthday, Harry got a letter from Dumbledore, who was refusing him to visit his friends.

The blame fell quickly towards the old wizard.

Dumbledore. Even the mere name makes hatred curl like a snake inside his heart. It was Dumbledores fault. For he knew. He had known all along. He knew what was wrong with him. And the damned Prophecy. If Dumbledore had just told him, told him everything. Then Sirius wouldn't have died. Then Harry wouldn't have been so easily tricked.

Then Remus wouldn't be in such sorrow either.

The Emerald eyed boy turned around from the white scenary and leaned against the ice cold stone wall and growled in frusturation. He ranked his hand through his long hair, a habbit he had obtained from Sirius. In his memory he had grown it out. It was his way of showing his loss, no one questioned him, but he still got odd glanced from his friends. Fools the lot of them.

Just thinking of them made him unhappy. Always nagging him and ordering him around, forcing their opinions on him. He wanted to wring their fucking necks and watch them die slowly. But his self restraint merely made him glare at them and snap. He supposed they were worried, and that wass why they kept doing it. But he wasn't a baby. He could take care of himself, he had after all done it the last 15 years.

His eyes glanced over at the fluffy white snow, that sat so innocently on the floor, just under the window. Snow was the only thing, that he could imagine would be beautiful, when tainted. Even with Piss it looked pretty. Yellow and White. It clashed nicely together. And White and Green too. It was just as pretty. But a Colour combination he had yet to test was White snow with Blood combined. He imagined it would be beautiful. But it was difficult proving. He'd imagined that it had to take a lot of blood, and slicing ones hands or wrist for that was too melodramatic and would proberly do him no good in the end.

He needed a whole body for it. But as said it would've been difficult to do. Now a days one goes to Azkaban for murder, and claimed dark wizard for it as well. What the hell, it didn't really matter by that. Half of the Wizarding World already claimed him a Dark wizard at least twice since he arrived.

" I can talk to snakes so I must be a Dark wizard. I see some of Voldemorts Thoughts, so I must be a Death Eater. I was almost sorted into Slitherin so I ofcause must be evil incaranate. I'm a powerful Wizard, so Yes indeed I am A Vicious Dark wizard hell bend on joining Voldemorts ranks and be his dark whore! " He mumbles sarcasticly and a bit angry. The wizarding world was made up of fools and paranoid idiots. But as the saying goes, Idiots mingle together, search for each other, and that is where the danger lies. They're easy to manipulate and can become rather violent if pushed to hard.

Harry himself had also noticed odd things happening since Sirius died. His friends was a bit more suspecious, and irritating. He noticed them watching him more and more, and Ginny was becoming too much to handle. Her cleverage was becoming noticeably, more and more visibile each time he saw her. She was hitting on him, he knew. She was trying to catch his attention and seduce him.

He wasn't an idiot. He could clearly see that something was wrong. Something had changed. Ron and Hermione had been rather engaged in themselves a lot. They had somehow found each other in a more sexual opinion over the summer. Without telling him ofcause. It was a small betrayal. But it still gave him the space he needed.

And he used it to his advantage.

The Room Of Requirement. A nifty little thought and Wroom..! a whole library with dark arts books waiting for him to be read. The need for reading said books was after an odd facination for a horror movie he had sneaked peaked, when his aunt and uncle had been out eating.

Dudley had borrowed it from a friend and had pissed his pants while watching it. What a pansy. But Harry. Harry found the movie Saw, facinating and delightful. The way it was thoughtout, and how they always had to sacrify something to gain their freedom and lives. All the blood, and the tools, and the sheer animalistic way, the muggles became in the movie, when their lives were threatned.

It had been delightful to watch. It had been inspiring.

And it had startled him, when he realized what he had been feeling and thought.

He didn't know when his heart had grown this dark, but whenever that had been, he found himself not caring at all. He loved the new feeling, the new vision his eyes saw. He loved how things weren't just rainbows and unicorns, but grey and threstrals.

A dark, pleased smirk spread across his deep red lips, and cold hair blew from his nose and mouth as he breathed out a dry hoarse chuckle. He shoke his head in the night, an glanced up at the stars as they twinkled down at him, his small laughs never stopping, and only growing as blood on snow, crossed his mind once again.

Oh no, he certainly didn't mind.

Everything felt much greater now.

He felt free at last.

" H-Harry? " a slightly frigthened, and worried voice startled him, and the young wizard darted around, and settled his narrowed Avada Kedavra coloured eyes, on an irritating red headed Weasley-Whore. The girl was in a rope, and only had a bright red lassed gown underneath it. She had deliberately opened it up, to show off some skin.

She thought she was sexy, instead he wanted to puke. Her skin was pale underneath her flush, from the cold, and her lips were darkening. She looked at him slightly fearful, but quickly straightened up, as if she remembered that he was Harry Potter, her fairy tale Prince.

He felt like puking again, and delivered the girl a sneer as she smiled coyly. Rage surged through him as she neared him. Her lips moved, and spoke words, but it was like chinese to him. His rage was blinding his view and his hearing, and all he wanted was to see her blood in the snow. See the life ebb out of her, and watch as betrayal would flash through her disgustingly brown eyes.

And then he stroke, like an angry serpant, and ripped out her throat.

Her face flashed in surprise, and Harry grinned in pleasure and glee, as she gurgled and gasped, and blood swam down his hand and into the floor. He ripped his fingers out, and the blood splattered on the stone cold floor, and Ginny gave a gasp of pain. Between his fingers, her voice box laid, bloody and useless.

" Goodbye Ginny Weasley..." he hoarsed, with a smirk, before he grabbed her and threw her over the edge of the tower. There was no scream. There was no sound. Until a clonk, as she hit the snow. It was quite soundless if you weren't outside. It disturbed nothing, and she would proberly still be alive.

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Excitedly, Harry stood by the window and looked down.

He gasped in pleasure.

It was a beautiful sight.

Her blood was everywhere on the snow, splattered like a pierce of art on the white canvas. She was a masterpierce, and he was quite saddened that he didn't have a camera for this. It was worthy to remember forever. To remember as an annoying whore was made into a beauty of an art.

" Ironic, that only when you are dead, you are worthy to me, Ginny.." he whispered with a dark grin, and then turned and left the crime scene. It was the fucking sign, he'd been waiting for anyway. The bell he had been listening to, to tell him to get the fuck out of there. He didn't need anything else than his wand, everything would come after he left.

So it was with a beautiful grin, and a slight skip in his steps, that Harry Potter left Hogwarts. He wasn't entirely sure where the road would take him, but he hoped it was towards the dark. Even if he had to join Voldemort. It didn't really matter anymore after all.

He stopped just outside the wards, and looked back with a smile to what had been his Home. He silently thanked the light for helping him paint the world back in colours. And what wonderful colours they were. With a pop, he disapparated away, for he had lot to do before the sun rose up.

Places to go, people to murder, paintings to be painted.

The World was too Black and White for his taste.

Maybe he'd become Red?

Red as the eyes of The Dark Lord Voldemort.

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_Red..._

Eyes...

Green...

Dark...

Why not?

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**A/N:** was it good? No? Please Review and tell me :) Thanks people!

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